


Entrapment

by B_Dazzled



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/M, original parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-12-28 18:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21141383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Dazzled/pseuds/B_Dazzled
Summary: 30 years before Entrapta had a lab partner, another Princess of Dryl set a trap.Short 4 chapter fic about Entraptas parents.Who they were, how they met and what happened to them.





	1. Ensnared

Princess Feenarah of Dryl was celebrating her 21st birthday the only way one could during these hard times. In her lab, working on a new weapon for the newly formed Princess Alliance. Queen Angella had asked her to join specifically for this purpose.  
  
"The Horde is a threat to all of Etheria," she had argued, "we must act swiftly before they can cause lasting damage to our planet!"  
  
Feenarah had not disagreed. Also any excuse to spend more time in her lab inventing was fine by her. She had simple needs. Devoting time to her hobbies was one of them.  
  
As she worked, she reached one hand behind her, rummaging through a tool box for something specific. Soon enough, a six-sided hexdriver was pulled out and she could get back to work. Sure, she could have used something else, but it was the principle of the thing! Always use the right tools for the job, she always said.  
  
"Your Highness!"  
  
The sudden outburst from the other side of her lab startled the Princess, causing her to slice her gloved hand on a bit of jagged metal. A good thing she was wearing gloves at all. She might have lost a good bit of finger otherwise.  
  
"You should really knock," she grumbled, pulling her thick work gloves off her hands, "I could have been naked, for all you knew."  
  
The blue haired butler stuttered an apology and bowed low, hiding his blush. Feenarah pulled her goggles up on top of her head to look him up and down smiling. She loved to fluster people.  
  
"Your Highness, a Horde soldier was discovered on castle grounds."  
  
The Princess raised a thin dark eyebrow playfully.  
  
"Oh? And my traps?"  
  
"Well, that's how we found him. He set one of them off."  
  
The Princess pulled a mirror out of one of the many pouches on her leather work apron and inspected her face.  
Appearances were vitally important. People cared how she looked, more than they cared about her brain. Well, Feenarah would be lying if she said she didn't also care how she looked. She always dressed well, even in her lab. No need to get sloppy just because Etheria was at war!  
  
"Good," she said at long last, "show me to him. I need to see how effective my trap was!"  
  
"Princess, I don't think that's-"  
  
"You aren't paid to think, Losa," she interrupted sweetly, removing her apron, "That is my job."  
  
  
-  
  
The life of a Horde soldier was not as bad as most of Etheria seemed to think. Sure, it was hard, but it beat life on the streets of mystacor.  
  
Keter was a failure. He knew it. The Sorcerers Guild was difficult to get accepted to, but easy to get pushed out of. He was only 17 when his apprenticeship was terminated.  
  
It wasn't that he lacked skill. He never would have made it in if he did not possess some potential. He simply could not keep his teachers interested. The instant Micah began his training, Lightspinner had forgotten Keter. He knew it was over well before it was offical.  
  
He held no grudge. Micah was skilled, possessing a natural talent that Keter simply could not compete with. The higher Micah rose, the further Keter had fallen until he was no longer invited to take part in her lessons, no longer asked to participate in class and he was finally politely informed that he no longer had a place with them.  
  
His options had been few. He was young still when his life was turned upside down, but he was adaptable, resourceful. And there was a force rising in the lands just outside of the whispering woods. An army accepting any and all, promising shelter, purpose, 3 meals a day.  
  
He may not have been the best Sorcerer in Mystacor, but the Horde had accepted him and elevated him. Now he was a Force Captain, answering directly to Lord Hordak himself. He certainly could have done worse.  
  
Lord Hordak had appeared to appreciate his magical capabilities, particularly his use of the truth spell. His Lord did really hate dishonesty.  
  
This was part of the reason Lord Hordak had asked him and his team to go on this mission. He was trusted. Trusted to be honest with him, trusted to keep a secret, but most of all, trusted to get results, even if it meant bending the rules to the point of snapping. Hordak never minded a little bit of insubordination if it meant the goal was achieved.  
  
The job had been going so well. Everything according to plan. That never happened, even for a simple mission like this. Collect data on the kingdom of Dryl. Spy on their Princess, identify if an alliance was possible and prepare for a future assassination if not. The mines of Dryl were a valuable resource. Hordak wanted them and Keter was going to help.  
  
It would have gone so well too, if their information had been up to date. There had been no mention of traps. No indication of danger. He should have known better. He should have been smarter.  
  
And he was paying for it.  
  
-  
  
Feenarah stood over the unconscious Horde soldier, taking note of his vitals, the damage.  
  
"Subject appears to have suffered severe trauma to his left arm at the elbow, and hands, lacerations to both legs and chemical burns to the eyes," she spoke out loud into a simple recording device, "I am confident that both legs and his arm can be restored to full function. The eyes on the other hand, are beyond saving. I will remove the damaged organs and fashion a replacement. I have been eager to play more with cybernetic body parts lately. I can't imagine a better opportunity."  
  
She examined his physical features, wondering at his scruffy blond hair. Where was he from originally before the Horde? She could guess, but none of her guesses seemed correct. Maybe if he survived the treatment she could ask him.  
  
She pulled on a surgical gown, mask, gloves. She double checked her supplies, then triple checked, just for good measure. It never hurt to be thorough. Humming lightly to herself, her hand hovered over her surgical instruments. She seemed to hesitate before she finally picked up a scalpel.  
  
"Alright," she murmured, hovering over the injured soldier, "Let's get weird."  
  
  
-  
  
  
Keter woke in a world of darkness and pain. Confusion overtook him for a moment, then fear. Panic.  
No. No. He had to calm down. Remember. What happened? His squad had just set foot on castle grounds. They were traveling together and then-  
  
Ah. Yes. They were all dead now. He remembered. One of the youngest ones had triggered some sort of trap. He survived. Somehow.  
  
He attempted to open his eyes and found absolute nothingness. Not darkness. Nothing. The absence of light, color, even those floaty bits of eye gunk.  
  
No. He was allowed to panic now.  
  
"Please calm down," a voice in the nothingness said, "you've been badly injured. I saved your arm and your legs. But unless you stay still, I can not promise they will heal correctly."  
  
"My eyes," He hissed as best he could manage. His throat felt so raw. "Why can't I see?"  
  
"Oh! Because I had to remove them," she answered simply, "couldn't be saved. Your friends are dead too. Sorry. I guess this is a lot to take in, but studies of social behavior show it's best to be honest about these things. It makes it easier to cope when you have all the information up front."  
  
Up front. All the information. Keter lay too stunned to move. He was blind, alone, having now failed his mission, failed Hordak. He could never return now, could he? What use would Hordak have of a blind soldier? He felt the urge to use his magic, but without the use of his arms, he could not draw the runes. Could he even do it, even if he did? Without his sight?  
  
"Who are you?" He asked through clenched teeth. He had a feeling he knew her answer before she gave it.  
  
"Princess Feenarah of Dryl. A pleasure to meet you, Keter."  
  
Princess. Of course she was. The sworn enemy of the Horde. The one he was meant to spy on. It was her trap he had fallen into. He wished he could look her in the eye now. He felt so small. Vulnerable.  
  
Wait.  
  
"How do you know my name?" He asked suspiciously, "can Princesses read minds now too?"  
  
"Oh, it was labeling some of your supplies. Really, you should consider code names. Your name, for example could be Blondie or, oh! I know! Keke! That's cute."  
  
He growled, annoyed, embarassed afraid.  
"Why did you save me? You could have let me die. You probably should have."  
  
"That wouldn't be very nice. Or fun," she answered and he could practically hear the shrug, "besides, I need a test subject. I've been playing with the idea of making cybernetic parts for the miners that got hurt in the last cave in. It's the least I can do for them. I already created bots to assist, but I cant replace them outright. People depend on the income from mining, you see. Well, now that I have you, I can go ahead and run tests on my ocular implants!"  
  
He listened quietly, the absolute rush of information made him feel dizzy. Or was it the drugs? He should have hurt a lot more than this. It was almost certainly the drugs then.  
  
"You don't get out much, do you, Princess?" His tone was harsh, betraying his irritation more than he intended.  
She shut up immediately and, despite everything, he wished he hadn't said it.  
  
"Is it that obvious? I thought I was doing so well." Her sigh sounded so sad. It must have been some powerful drug in his system because he actually felt sorry for her now.  
  
"Not entirely," he lied, "I just assumed. Being out here. In the castle, i mean."  
  
He could almost feel the energy around her shift at once.  
  
"Ah. Yes. If course," she had a smile in her voice, "you're right though. I dont get out much. Believe it or not, I don't have a lot of friends."  
  
"Really?" Keter asked automatically, not entirely caring much about the answer.  
  
"Well, Queen Angella says she's my friend. But she only comes around when she needs me to make something for her," she replied, "The other Princesses dont really want me around because they say I make them 'uncomfortable' and because I dont have a runestone like them. And because last time I went to the All Princess Ball, I couldn't find a date so I brought Losa with me and i guess its 'improper' to bring your butler."  
  
He listened to her, helpless to do anything about it. She must have really been lonely to keep chatting like this to an enemy. Did she even realize he was her enemy? Did she have a single clue?  
Or did she just not care? Was he so nonthreatening that she could strike up a friendly conversation?  
  
"Princess, even I know you shouldn't bring your butler to a party."  
  
She giggled, seeming to take what he just said as a joke.  
  
"You know. I'm so happy that you decided to try to sneak into my castle. I've been wanted to try this for a long time."  
  
He felt her shift to his side, then a rush of cold through the I.V. in his arm. Before he could even ask what she was doing, his body went heavy and his mind went numb.  
  
"I'm going to fix your eyes. Isnt that exciting? Go to sleep now. We can talk more when you wake up."  
  
  
-  
  
  
For three days and three nights, Keter recovered in complete darkness with only the voice of the Princess to keep him company. She talked about so much. Her projects, her people, her castle, her theories. When he was feeling better, he would reply, polite. Honest. No need to play head games. She was an open book. Sometimes she would bring a project to work on while she kept him company during his recovery.  
  
  
"Your name is... unusual," he pointed out one day, "It's pretty, but... do all Princesses have names like that?"  
  
"Mmm? That's rude, you know. Making fun of a lady's name."  
  
He heard her digging around for something. Some tool. He wished he could help her because the sound was annoying.  
  
"I did not mean to offend," he raised a hand, "I was simply curious. Does it mean something?"  
  
He could hear her go still, quiet, then she continued digging for what ever tool she was searching for.  
  
"My name is a pun. Sort of. Most Princesses have names like this."  
  
"Feenarah...?" He tested the name slowly, then shook his head. "I don't get it."  
  
"Say it faster."  
  
"Feenarah. Oh? It sounds like..."  
  
"Funeral," she sighed, "yes."  
  
More silence as she seemed to find what she was looking for and get to work. Keter spoke up again.  
  
"Princess, I dont mean to be rude, but that's awful. "  
  
"...Yes. Yes it is."  
  
"Why would your parents name you something like that?" He knew he shouldn't ask, but curiosity was a powerful thing.  
  
"My father named me. When mom died. There's a reason Dryl has no Queen."  
  
Oh. Now he got it. And this was officially the most uncomfortable moment of his life. If he could see where he was going, he might have got up to leave, rather than sit in this uncomfortable silence any longer. He had to fix it somehow.  
  
"Well, do you have a nickname? Because I am not calling you that. It doesn't fit you at all."  
  
When she giggled, he felt a sense of relief. That was better.  
  
"You can call me Fee."  
  
  
  
  
On the fourth day, she removed the bandages.  
  
Darkness. Still. He sat silent, dejected. He hadn't wanted to hope, yet here he was. And the disappointment was crushing.  
  
"Oh! Oops! Hang on. I have to-" her fingers clicked something and the world flashed to life in vivid color, "there we go!"  
  
He focused down on his hands first, bandaged, but intact. He lifted his head, turned this way and that, taking in the room he had spent days recovering in.  
  
"Well? Is it working?"  
  
His gaze traveled to the source of that excited voice, at long last meeting the woman who both took his sight and gave it back.  
  
For a full thirty seconds, he said nothing.  
  
That was unexpected. He didn't know what he had expected exactly, but not this. She was too young, too pretty. Large friendly eyes sparkled like sapphires, rich olive skin with just a kiss of pink on her cheeks, and her hair! It took a full ten seconds just to take it all in. It was massive, dark, almost plum in color, hanging down her back to her ankles.  
  
He had never seen anything like her in his life. Was this a joke? This was the genius princess of Dryl?  
  
"I think its working," he finally answered, then gasped as he suddenly realized something, "mirror. Do you have a mirror?"  
  
She bit her lip and his heart sank. Still, she fished a small mirror out of a hidden pocket on her dress and handed it over.  
  
"Um! It's just a prototype, and- and there was a lot of damage. The scar tissue proved to be a challenge and-"  
  
He glanced once, lowered it, looked again. It did not get better a second time. His "eyes" were such a vivid shade of red, that it reminded him some of Lord Hordak, but that was where the comparison ended. He looked more machine than man, like one of Dryls robots. He wanted to wince, squint, even raise a brow. But there was no ability to do so anymore. A good thing he was too shocked to cry, because he had no tear ducts to cry with.  
  
Wordlessly he passed the mirror back. She stepped away, head down, looking apologetic.  
  
"L-like I said, there was just so much damage, I saved what I could but-"  
  
"Thanks. Nobody much cares what i look like in the Horde. I can see again. That's all that matters."  
  
The woman seemed to want to say something else, but she just nodded and turned away.  
  
"I should get back to work. You're welcome to rest here for as long as you want. I recommend you give yourself a couple days to get used to your new eyes before leaving. I'll want to monitor your recovery as well and-"  
  
"You're just letting me go?" He asked, stunned.  
  
"Well. Yes? It's not like one Horde soldier can make or break the alliance. Besides I feel bad about my trap."  
  
He bit back a retort that he was the one trying to break into her castle. She was being generous. Best to just let her think it was her fault.  
  
"So I am confined to this room then?" He asked, looking around. It could be worse. He could be in a prison cell.  
  
"Hm... Losa doesnt want you causing trouble," she seemed to be thinking really hard for a moment, then it was as if he could see a lightbulb ping to life above her head. "Got it! You can come with me to my lab! I can log your recovery and work at the same time!"  
  
"You're going to take a Horde soldier into the lab where you invent weapons for the Alliance?" He tried not to sound like he was calling her an idiot, but it did seem very naive.  
  
"No, no. I'm not working on any weapons right now. It's fine. You wont see anything the Horde hasn't seen already. Come on!" She reached out for his hand but he ignored it, standing up and moving past her.  
  
"Fine. If you absolutely insist, then it would be unkind of me to refuse."  
  
  
Over the next few days, Keter found himself staying near the Princess during his waking hours, even if he did not do much while she worked. So often, she would talk out loud as she poured chemicals, or pressed her eye to the microscope. She didn't explain what she was doing however, until he asked.  
  
"Oh. This? I'm trying to develop a medicine. Theres a virus going around the village at the base of the mountain."  
  
"A virus?"  
Why was a Princess worrying about an illness in some village?  
  
"Mmm... it happens every so often. Usually it'll just run its course, some people might be stuck in bed a few days, but nothing major. But this one..."  
She let out a hiss that sounded almost annoyed. "I need more Radiant. I can't believe I forgot to gather some!"  
  
"Radiant? Is that a chemical, or...?"  
  
"It's a white flower, sometimes called Moonflow. If I had some more, I could finish this."  
  
Moonflow. Yes. Keter knew that plant. He had seen it on the way here, just at the east side of the cliffs.  
  
"Oh well," she sighed, stretching and rising to her feet, "I guess I'm done here for tonight."  
  
It was late. She yawned and made her way out of the lab. He followed close behind until he reached the room he had been... assigned.  
  
"Night night, Keke," she said, using that annoying nickname again, "sweet dreams."  
  
Keter gave her a teasing smirk.  
  
"Aww, walked me to my room, but not even going to give me a good night kiss?"  
Before she could respond, he shut the door.  
  
The Princess didn't seem to think much of it. If she was being honest with herself, she was just glad to have someone to talk to, even if he was trying to annoy her. Maybe they weren't friends, and maybe he was only there because he had to be, but it was still better company than she'd had in years.  
As she locked herself in her bedroom, she began to realize just how sad that was.  
  
Preparing for bed, she happened to glance out her window just in time to see the shadow of her guest stalk away into the night. She wished she could be disappointed, but at this point, nothing surprised her anymore. Everyone left eventually.

She still felt a sting and despite herself, getting to sleep that night was harder than usual. 

  



	2. Entangled

  
"Princess. Wake up."  
  
Feenarah jolted awake, holding her blankets close. In the morning light, she blinked for several long seconds before she was finally able to focus long enough to figure what happened.  
  
Standing at her bed side was Keter, holding a large bouquet of white flowers. Sleepily, she blinked at the flowers, his face, then the flowers again.  
  
"You didn't _leave_?" She questioned, taking the bundle in one hand while she held the blanket up to her chin with the other, "why not?"  
  
"You needed these for the medicine," he answered simply, "I knew where to find them. I brought back as much as I could carry."  
  
"I see..." she didn't really. It made no sense. He didn't have to help her. He had the perfect chance to leave. Why didn't he? "And you just waltzed back here in the middle of the night? Without setting off any of my traps?"  
  
Now he was grinning. Probably the first time it didnt seem forced, an act. She found it charming.  
  
"I suppose that means I found a weak point, Princess. Better fix it quick."  
  
He sounded teasing, but Feenarah took it very seriously. He was right. If he could sneak in without setting them off-  
_Wait_.  
  
"You're in my room," she noted.  
  
"Yes. I _am_ an agent of the Horde, after all."  
Feenarah gave him a 'look' and he cleared his throat, looking embarrassed.  
"Also you left your window unlocked. You should be more careful, Princess."  
  
Now it was her turn to look embarassed.  
  
"I see... noted."  
  
It was awkward. He didn't seem to notice the reason she was blushing so much until she sat up fully, blanket tucked around her bosom. Then he got it.  
  
"I sleep in the nude, Keter. You should probably be aware of that before you try to sneak in to prove a point again."  
  
She had never seen him blush before. Even with the cybernetics freezing the top half of his face, it was cute.  
  
"A-apologies!" He turned quickly and left, humiliation following him out with the womans laughter. 

  
  
"I finished the medicine! Would you like to come with me to the village to distribute it?"  
  
Keter simply nodded in response.  
  
Another month had passed since the incident with the flowers and Keter had not attempted to invade the Princesses privacy again. His every day was spent by her side, however, often sitting in her lab while she worked, passing what ever tool she requested.  
  
The Princess rose to her feet, but tripped over her own hair. Keter frowned (as best he could) while she made that same annoyed hiss he'd heard only a handful of times before.  
  
"Why dont you cut it?" He asked bluntly.  
  
"I do," she answered, pulling at her tangles, trying to braid it back, "it grows fast."

"Then cut it again?"

"No. I mean, it really grows _fast_. Watch."  
  
A pair of shears were in her hand at once. She grabbed a small handful and cut. A good three feet of hair fell to the floor, choppy, uneven. Keter opened his mouth to ask what she was doing, but she held up a finger.  
  
Right before his eyes, the cut strand grew until it had reached the floor. The entire process took minutes.  
  
"Magic hair," she sighed, "other Princesses get powers to control water, fly, make ice. Me? I get magic hair growing powers. That's it. That's all it does."  
  
Now he understood. He had wondered why an inventor and scientist would choose to keep her hair so long. She had no control of it.  
  
"It looks... nice?" he attempted to complement, but knew immediately that his attempt fell flat, "I _do_ see that it irritates you."  
  
"It would be different if my hair did something, you know? Magic healing? Or transforming. Or if it moved! That would be nice! I'm so bad at multitasking, could you imagine if I could use all this as extra arms?"  
  
She laughed. Keter did not.  
  
He stared ahead at nothing, lifted one hand, one finger and began tracing something in the air. For a moment, there was nothing to be seen. Then a glow appeared around him as a complex shape appeared in midair, warping light and sound Itself, glowing a faint violet.  
  
Feenarah stood with her mouth open as she clumsily reached behind to her desk for a pad and pen. She was still aggressively taking notes when he was done. He stepped close. Almost too close. She lowered her note pad, eyes shining with fear. He held his hand out, smiling.  
  
The world fell away the instant she took it, all fear gone.  
  
He held the magic with his other hand, raised it up and, with a wave of his fingers, sent it flying. She flinched, closing her eyes, tensing as the spell floated through her, grabbing onto every strand of hair, wrapping itself tight, tugging and combing through all the way to the ends.  
  
He offered no explanation, even as she opened her eyes again and glanced around frantically.  
  
"Wha-?"  
"Shhh," he put a finger to her lips to silence her and gestured with the other hand. She blinked, stunned as her hair came to life.  
  
"I- but-?"  
"It's a simple animation spell," he shrugged, "I just thought it might help."  
  
She experimentally reached out with a tendril of hair, taking the pen from her hands.  
  
"_Facinating_..." she breathed, "I was aware you could do magic. But I had no idea you could... is it permanent?"  
  
His cheeks burned. Oh. On inanimate objects, sure, he could end it any time. Were the rules the same for organic material? He tried to recall Light Spinners lessons on the subject.  
  
"Well! I hope it is!" She squealed, rushing forward to throw her arms around him, "Thank you, Keke! I'm so happy!  
  
Keter smiled. He found he was doing that an awful lot around her. But what she did next upset that delicate balance between them. The one where she led and he followed, watched, listened. Smiled. But all from a distance.  
  
As soon as her lips touched his, it was all over.  
  
She pulled away quickly, still laughing, still so excited. It was as if she hadn't truly noticed what she did. But he couldn't forget. He found himself tracing his lips, trying to banish the warmth from his face.  
  
She forgot about the kiss moments after it happened. He thought about it obsessively for the next week.  
  
  
  
"Princess, I was thinking we could try an experiment," he said eventually, after a full week of planning. Flirting was not exactly a lesson learned either from his time at Mysticor or in the Horde. He had to do his best with limited data.  
  
"Oh! Goodie!" She clapped her hands together as her hair pulled out a notepad and pen. She had gotten very good at controlling it, he had noted. "Let me guess, you're interested in the possible alternative healing capabilities of your magic, right?"  
  
She looked so excited. Her eyes lit up like the day, sparkling with joy. He couldn't stand to see it dim even for a moment. He nodded, abandoning his original plan to flirt.  
  
"I have a theory," she began, "do you want to hear it?"  
  
And as he always did when she started like this, he simply sat down to listen.  
  
  
The next month was the hardest. He found himself staring at her for long moments, trying to look away quickly enough when she turned her gaze on him. He knew she had caught him and he tried to play it off like he was simply distracted by something else in her general area.  
  
It was during one of these awkward moments that she finally sighed and pushed her chair away from her desk.  
  
"Within the last hour, you have looked at me 16 times."  
  
"That's not true. Look, I just-"  
  
"And yesterday, I caught you staring a total of 136 times."  
  
"W-well, that's not-"  
  
"I made a _chart_, Keter," she pulled up a tablet with an adorable bubbly graph, "see? This line shows the total times you've looked and this line shows how many times I caught you smiling at me."  
  
She shoved it in his face with a long strand of plum colored hair.  
  
"The numbers dont lie. According to the data collected, I think I can confidently conclude that you're in love with me."  
  
The word Love hit him like a lightning bolt to the heart. He ran a hand through his hair, turned his face to look at absolutely anything else. What could he say? She was right. The numbers didn't lie. Her conclusions were sound.

  
It was why he had stayed so long, why he hung around, just listening to her talk about her theories for hours, why he kept running off to do favors for her.  
  
"Am I wrong?" She tilted her head, trying to force herself back into his line of sight, "you can tell me if my conclusions are-"

"You're right," he sighed, "apologies, Princess. I know I am overstepping. I will not bother yo-"  
  
"I love you too!"  
  
And there it was. The sentence that sealed his fate. He really was well and truly trapped now.  


  
  
He wasn't sure how they got here. What events led to this. What magic words he said to open this door.  
But what ever spell they seemed to be under, he prayed it would never be broken.  
  
Their bodies melded together in such beautiful harmony. His heart beat like drum. Her fingers danced on him like a harp. Their voices rose together, a song all their own.  
  
And when it was done, he lay quietly in her bed, tangled in her hair, tangled in her_ life._ They panted together, held each other close. Of all the ways he had seen this mission going when he had accepted it, this was not one of them.  
  
"Are you alright?" He asked, planting a careful kiss to the top of her head, "you're quiet."  
  
Yes. That was always concerning. When she was quiet, really truly silent, she was sad. He hoped she wasnt sad.  
  
"I'm fine," she replied slowly, "I'm just... taking it all in. I've never done that."  
  
"Me either," he admitted, tracing his fingers up her arms, "was it, um, enjoyable?"  
  
"Mmm... how to explain? So you know the feeling when you run a really productive test and are finally able to move on to human trials?" She looked up at Keter who only stared in response, "well, it's like that. Except I'm tired and panting at the end."  
  
He laughed, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest. No. He wasn't sure _how_ they got here. But he wanted to remain here with her for the rest of his life. Only 5 months after their confession and he was already captivated.  
  
"You know... you were supposed to marry me first," he teased, "what will the other Princesses think?"  
  
Now it was Feenarahs turn to laugh.  
  
"What sort of proposal is that? Don't be silly! You're always messing with me."  
  
He rolled her onto her back, pinning her down, red cybernetics inches away from her face.  
  
"Princess, I have never been more serious in my life."  
  
Even in the dark of the night, he could see a blush spread across her soft cheeks. He closed the distance, capturing her mouth once more for another quick, firm kiss before whispering against her lips,  
"Marry me."  
  
Her answer was simple, soft, hardly more than a breath on the wind. But he heard it loud and clear like a bell.

  
"Yes."  



	3. Enraptured

"Feena? What is this?"  
  
Keter held a scroll in his hand, examining it. She had left it on a low table, clearly forgotten while she worked at her office desk. Being a Princess wasn't all fun, after all.   
  
"Hm? Oh. An invitation to another princess Prom. I suppose it has been ten years since the last one."  
  
"Oh," he opened it and read a little.  
  
The Princess did not look up from her work. Sections of dark hair sorted some documents while she signed off on others. Boring, tedious paperwork, but she always insisted on doing it herself. She took delight in being an involved leader for her Kingdom.   
  
Keter loved that about her.   
  
"Says it's taking place in Brightmoon."  
  
"Mmm... Angella already told me at the last Alliance meeting," The Princess murmured, "She wants to meet you."  
  
"M-me!?" He nearly tripped over his own feet. "Why?!"  
  
"Because you're my fiancé," she answered, keeping focused on the work in front of her, "and they'll all meet you eventually. Royal weddings are not meant to be private affairs. At least a dozen other monarchs must be in attendance for a royal union to be recognized."  
  
He sat down on the sofa in her office, looking nervous  
  
"A dozen? Why so many?"   
  
"No idea," she sighed, moving on to a new pile of papers to sort, "tradition rarely makes sense. Read the invitation, if you want an example of how out of control royal protocol can be."  
  
He dropped one end of the scroll, biting his lip as it rolled and rolled, foot after foot unfurling until it hit the opposite wall, a mess of information.   
  
"This is ridiculous!" He decided, furiously rolling it back up, "who makes up these rules? Look at this- proper stair descending etiquette had it's own five paragraphs!"  
  
Feenarah sighed, moving another pile of paperwork into her reach.   
  
"That is precisely why I won't be going," she mumbled, "I just really hated the last one I went to."  
  
Keter had been about to move on to the next stupid rule to laugh about, but something in her tone stopped him.   
  
"You did mention something about it when we first met. Do you, uh, want to talk about it?"  
  
By now she had set her pen down and was rubbing her temples.  
  
"I just... I was the youngest Princess there. My mom was gone, so someone had to go to represent Dryl. And my Father... Well, he wouldn't go with me. Can you imagine how hard it is for an eleven year old to find an escort to a ball with this many rules and regulations? The only one qualified to take me was, well, Losa."  
  
Keter finished rolling the scroll back up, blushing. He had made fun of her for that when he first met her.   
  
"It was a total disaster. I don't like to relive it," she pushed herself away from the desk, stretching her hands above her head with a yawn, "so don't ask me any more, alright?"  
  
Keter glanced at the scroll in his hand, then back to her.   
  
"I won't ask anymore, but..." He stood as well, moving to stand behind her chair, "it might be helpful to have a re-do, don't you think?"  
  
He pressed a kiss to her cheek, feeling her smile under his lips.   
  
"Besides, you wont have to worry about a date this time. You have me."  
  
She tilted her head back to look up at his smiling face. One tendril of hair whipped up to poke him on the tip of his nose playfully.  
  
"Alright. But you've got some studying to do, Keke," she giggled, pointing back at the scroll in his hand, "as for me, well, I guess I should figure out what we're going to wear."  
  
  
  
Keter studied as if this were a life or death mission. Perhaps it was. Would Princesses murder him if he used the wrong fork? No. No. He was still thinking like a Horde soldier. That wasn't his life anymore.   
She was.   
  
He paced the library, studying the kingdoms of Etheria, the histories, possible conversation topics, relevant information. Sure, he knew the basics about each region, but he didn't want to be a basic escort. He wanted to be perfect. For her.  
  
It was as he was practicing his bow in the mirror that Losa entered the room, smiling.   
  
"Almost, Sir," the older man stepped inside, setting his tray down for a moment to demonstrate, "a little lower."  
  
Keter copied his movements, feeling silly.   
  
"Like that?"  
  
"Hmm... Yes. Much better. You'll be Prince material in no time!"  
  
Keter straightened up, stared at his reflection. Prince material? He really doubted that. Still, his time with the Princess had done him some good, in the fashion department at least. His Princess always dressed well and she had insisted the same for him.   
  
"I hope I can pull this off," he mumbled, "Are the invitations for the wedding sent yet?"  
  
Losa had turned his attention back to his tray. As he prepared tea he smiled his knowing smile and nodded.   
  
"Oh yes. So don't worry. The wedding will happen one way or another now." There was laughter in his voice. "But I don't think you have to worry about her canceling the wedding if the ball doesn't go perfect. Would you like to know a secret?"  
  
Keter nodded, feeling like this secret was going to embarrass him.  
  
"I've known the princess her entire life, and I've never seen her this happy," he confessed, "Doesn't she seem like she smiles all the time?"  
  
Keter nodded.  
  
"She never used to smile like that. Not really. She was a very lonely girl. So can you promise something? Just to put my mind at ease?"  
  
"Yes, of course," Keter answered before he could really consider it. He took promises seriously, after all.  
  
"Keep her smiling. That's all."  
  
  
  
The day of the ball arrived quickly. Too quickly. Keter did not feel prepared. As he dressed, he quietly recalled the rules on the invitation. Losa sighed as he helped him with his hair.   
  
"Master Keter, you must relax. The Princesses are not going to string you up by your fiancés hair if you step with your right foot instead of your left."  
  
He had not even realized he was shaking. Not even in front of Lord Hordak did he feel this nervous. Why? It was just a stupid party with a bunch of stupid royals.   
  
But it was important to her. He couldn't let her down.   
  
"Losa, do I look...?"  
  
The blue haired older man rolled his eyes and looked Keter up and down. He adjusted his lapel, tugged a little at his sleeve, straightened a button on his waistcoat. Then and only when all these tiny adjustments were made, did he give Keter a nod of approval.   
  
"Very nice. I was skeptical about the color at first," he admitted, "But! It really brings out your..."  
  
"Eyes," Keter finished for him with a slight chuckle, opening the door, "thank you. I should go see if Fee..."  
  
Leaning against the stair railing, there she stood. Her back was to him until she heard his sharp inhale.   
  
She glanced at him over her shoulder, smiling. And he was just lost. The sight of her usually had an effect on him, but tonight it struck him helpless.   
  
She was an absolute Goddess wearing a floor length gown in a pale rose pink. Her hair, which was usually left to wave behind her, had been tamed Into a series of braids and twists. Still functional, but formal.   
  
"Keke! You look so handsome!" She stepped towards him, taking his hands in hers. That was enough to shake him from the trance she had him in.  
  
"And you look..." He was at a loss for a moment, perhaps a moment too long. Her face fell slightly.  
  
"I know it's not... Extravagant," she murmured, plucking at the delicate fabric, "I can go change if you-"  
  
"I would propose to you right now, if we weren't already engaged," he finally blurted out, "you are stunning."  
  
She blinked and for a moment, Keter was afraid he had messed up, said something wrong. Then her lips touched his and she was tugging him close.  
  
"You know..." She whispered, glancing down the hall, "we don't have to go. We could stay here and..."  
  
"Princess!" He pretended to appear shocked, "what a suggestion! However, article 34 of the Princess code of conduct states that a royal must make an appearance to an event after sending their RSVP, unless death or serious illness has occurred. And you, Princess, don't look dead or ill."  
  
Feenarah huffed.   
"When did you learn all that? You're not supposed to know more than me."  
  
Keter laughed, gave her a quick peck on the cheek and offered her an arm.   
  
"Don't underestimate me, Princess," he teased, close to her ear as they descended the stairs, "I was a scary Horde Soldier, remember?"  
  
"Mm, but now you're my lab assistant."  
  
  
  
  
Brightmoon was not at all what Keter had expected. What, exactly, he had expected, he couldn't say, but not this. It was too... Pastel. And gold. Gaudy. Reminded him too much of Mystacor.  
  
No. He much preferred the Castle in Dryl. But then, that was home now. Anywhere with her was home.   
  
They walked in, arm in arm with her leaning slightly against him as they descended the stairs. Someone waved at Feena from across the ballroom and she waved back. For all her insistence that people didn't like her, she sure seemed to have a lot of people who knew her here.  
  
"Princess Aquata," she explained, "part of the Alliance."  
  
"Ah," he replied, "I feel like I should have known that..."  
  
"It's alright. I only talk to them during Alliance meetings anyway," she seemed to shrug, but Keter could hear the sadness in her voice.   
  
"Um..." How was he going to change the subject now? "We should greet the hostess."  
  
"Ah. Yes. Angella," her voice was businesslike. Unreadable. "Technically not a Princess, but I suppose an exception is made when you're the hostess."  
  
Keter chuckled at her analysis, charmed by just about everything she did.   
  
  
As they neared the throne, a familiar face caught his attention. Dark hair, late teens, handsome, with a contagious smile.   
  
Keter felt his heart plummet. Micah had not been his friend during his time at the Academy. Not that he had been his enemy, exactly. It was just, well, in so many ways Keter did blame him for the state of his life.  
  
No. That wasn't right. He glanced at the woman on his arm. Where he was now. Who he was now. He was actually glad of it.   
  
He shouldn't be blaming him, he realized, shocked. He should be...  
Thanking him.   
  
He watched Micah hover near the Queen, glancing at her frequently, a look in his eyes so clear, so easy to read.   
It was love.   
  
But Angella either had not noticed, or was doing a very convincing job of pretending not to.   
  
As he and Feena approached the throne, the Queen of Brightmoon smiled with a little twinkle in her eye.   
  
"So. Princess Feenarah," she teased, "this is your mysterious fiancé."  
  
"Yes your Majesty," she murmured, dipping into a perfect curtsey, holding it to hide her blush. Keter bowed as well.  
  
"Allow me to introduce Keter of Mystacor."  
  
That managed to snap Micahs attention away from the Queen for a moment. Now he was studying Keter.   
  
"It is a pleasure to meet you at last. Feenarah here has told us all so much about you."  
  
Angella seemed nice enough, but Feena wasn't looking at her. Why?   
  
"Your Majesty, the pleasure is all mine," he replied politely, offering his fiancé his arm once again.   
  
As they left the presence of the Queen, Keter and Feena both let out a deep sigh almost simultaneously. Immediately they looked at each other asking at the same time,  
"What's wrong?" And then "you first."  
  
Then they laughed, stopping at a empty corner of the ballroom to talk.   
  
"You first, Princess. Please."  
  
Feenarah glanced behind her at the Queen, biting her lip.  
  
"She makes me so nervous," she confessed quietly, "she's so... Perfect. If I'm being honest?" She leaned in, cupping her hand against his ear to whisper. "She was my first ever crush."  
  
If Keter could blink, he would, just for dramatic effect.   
  
"Her? But she's so... glowy?" He glanced at the Queen, then back to his Princess. She was blushing, looking away. He reached out with a smirk, one finger under her chin to guide her face to his.   
"Are you afraid I'll like her more?"  
  
Feenarah nodded, still not quite meeting his gaze.   
  
"Feena..." He sighed, "look at me."  
  
Her eyes snapped to meet his. He leaned in, lips pressed against hers for only a moment before he pulled away and touched her forehead with his.   
  
"You are all I want here. The only one I have eyes for... Err, so to speak."  
  
She giggled and pulled his hand to her lips to kiss.   
  
"Now it's your turn," she said, suddenly her sweet self again, "tell me what's bothering you now."  
  
Keter frowned. Really, he had hoped to avoid this conversation and simply focus on her. His love had a good memory.  
  
"Micah," he murmured, "I didn't expect to see him here."  
  
"Micah?" She looked over his shoulder at the teen, "Oh! You know Micah? Yes! He's been involved in the Alliance a lot lately. People say he's very powerful- um! I-I mean, not as powerful as you though, of course!"  
  
He snorted at that, shaking his head.  
  
"He is and will always be the special one," Keter sighed, "I was lucky to get as far as I di- ow!"  
  
A braid flew up to whack him in the face.  
  
"Sorry! Sorry! But don't be mean to yourself, alright?" She grabbed the offending braid to throw it over her shoulder again. "Besides, did Micah give me magic hair? Or did Keter?"  
  
She had a way of making him smile, even after slapping him with her hair. His arms encircled her waist and he pulled her in close, mouth an inch away from hers when-  
  
"I thought I recognized you!"  
  
Feena pulled away immediately, looking embarrassed. Keter turned to the voice, annoyed at whoever decided to ruin the moment.   
  
"Oh. Micah. Hello."   
  
The younger man grinned, reaching to shake his hand. His enthusiasm and bright personality made Keter actually want to gag. But he offered a hand to shake politely anyway.   
  
"It was Keaton, right?"  
"Keter."  
"Right, right! I remember you. You were a few levels above me." Micah looked from Keter to Feena, offering her a bow. "Nice to see you again, Princess. The tracker pad you designed for us is amazing."  
  
Now Feena was smiling again.   
  
"Thank you! I'm so happy it's useful! And thank you and your team for testing it for me!"  
  
Micah laughed. It was so charming it made Keter want to melt into the floor. Why did he have to be _nice_ too?   
  
"I'll be happy to test anything you need, Princess!"  
  
"Please don't try to take my job. She may figure out I'm useless and decide to get rid of me," Keter teased, lightly placing a hand at his fiancé's waist, smiling.   
  
At least he had this. A Princess. The only princess that mattered as far as he was concerned, and Micah was still pining after Angella. It was enough of a victory.   
  
"Oh! That reminds me! The wedding! Angie wanted me to tell you that she will be delighted to attend."  
  
"Angie?" Feena questioned, "oh. You mean Angella. Yes. How delightful."  
  
She seemed distracted again. Keter gently squeezed her hip, waiting for Micah to get the hint.   
  
"I'll be there as well, of course! Wouldn't miss the marriage of our tech genius, after all!"   
  
Keters mouth was pressed into a line now, patience growing thinner by the second.   
  
"Do you mind if I borrow your fiancé for a moment, Princess? I need to ask him something. Sorcerer stuff."  
  
"O-oh..." She bit her lip, looking unsure, "alright...?"  
  
"Great! Keter! Let's go grab some champagne! I need to properly congratulate you!"  
  
He felt the younger man grasp his hand and tug him away before he could really protest. Shockingly strong, for such a short man.   
  
It wasn't until they had drinks in hand that Micah spoke again, his tone decidedly much less pleasant.   
  
"There were rumors at the Academy that you joined the Horde when you left."  
  
Keter paused, glass to his lips.  
  
"Do you believe every rumor you hear?" Keter met his eyes. This was what he did best. Avoid an outright lie. Answer a question with a question and let them come to their own conclusions.   
"Feenarah would know if I were a Horde soldier, don't you think? She's smart."  
  
Micah seemed to be studying his glass, but Keter knew what he was really doing. He was staring at Angella again.   
  
"She's a sweet girl, Princess Feenarah. If this engagement is some sort of trick, I will come after you. Personally."  
  
That actually took Keter by surprise. There was such conviction in those words. He actually sounded protective. It made him smile   
  
"What are you so happy about?" Micah asked, "I just threatened you!"  
  
"Forgive me. It's just... It's nice to see that she has friends."  
  
Now it was Micahs turn to look surprised. He looked the blond up and down, then laughed.   
  
"Maybe I had you all wrong after all," he gave Keter a way too firm pat on the back, spilling some of his drink. "You really do care about her, don't you?"  
  
"I love her." His reply was simple, punctuated by a shrug. "I wouldn't marry her if I didn't."  
  
Micah bit his lip, now openly staring at Angella. Not even bothering to hide it.   
  
"Please excuse me," he murmured, "I have to..."  
  
Keter didn't even bother to hear his excuse. He simply grabbed another drink and brought it back to his fiancé.  
  
"Keter? What was that about?" She asked, taking the glass from him.   
  
"Mmm? That? Oh, he wanted to threaten me. That's all."  
  
"What?!" She hissed, "threaten-? Do you think he knows about the Hor-"  
  
"Shh," he shushed her quickly, glancing around, "he said he heard rumors, but that's all. We have to come up with a convincing story to cover for my time with them."  
  
She nodded stiffly, then tilted her head back to drain her glass in one go.   
  
"We'll come up with something before the wedding then," she agreed, "but Micah? Threatening? I'm shocked."  
  
"It wasn't so bad. He just wanted to be sure I wasn't playing with you. That's all. People do seem to care about you, Fee."  
  
She blushed, and Keter wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or his comment. Either way, he offered her a hand.  
  
"Would you like to dance, Princess?"  
  
She looked at his hand and raised an eyebrow.  
"You know how to dance?"  
  
"Of course! I am a man of many skills... But also Losa taught me this one."  
  
  
She took his hand with a smile.  
  
  
At the alter, Keter smiled back at her. She was the most beautiful woman on the planet. He had decided that much already, but what he decided then was that she had to be the most beautiful being in existence. Period.   
Because, what he saw now went beyond anything he thought he could ever know. She stood hand in hand with him, dressed in white with a hundred Moonflow blossoms in her hair, and Keter was absolutely weak.   
  
His hand tightened on hers as he mumbled his vows, personal, private. They vowed to love the other for as long as they lived. And Keter truly meant every word.   
  
When they sealed their union with a kiss, Keter knew there was no escape for him now.   
It was a trap that he had set for himself.

And he was so happy.  
  
  



	4. Entrapped

It was one year after their marriage. A year of wedded bliss, a year of perfect companionship. Their dynamic was the same, but there was something about the ring on his finger that made all the difference.

"Keke, Dear, can you hand me a six sided hex dri- oh!"

He was ready before she finished speaking. Over the year, he had become a good lab assistant, always ready to hand her what she needed when she needed it, or take notes, or clean something, or fetch something. It didn't matter what it was.

They were a good team.  
She studied his magic and he studied her. All of her. He couldn't help it. She had an existence that fascinated him.

"I was thinking after I finish this new weapon for the Alliance we..." She trailed off, face going pale.

Keter was ready for this too. She'd been unwell lately and he had just learned to help however he could, since keeping her in bed seemed an impossible task. He grabbed a bin and slid it into her hands just in time. He watched her hunch over retching, thankful that it was impossible to tell how worried he actually was from his face.

"You know... This makes four days in a row. Should I call for a doctor?"

She shook her head.

"I already know my illness." Her throat sounded raw. "Do you think you can guess it?"

She would do this sometimes. It was a game to her. She would present evidence and ask him to come to the most logical conclusion.

"Alright," he sighed, thinking on her condition, "You've been sleeping longer than usual, complaining of headaches, dizziness, nausea, vomiting and you... Missed your last menstrual cycle entirely."  
He paused, letting that last bit sink in before he presented his conclusion.  
"I think... perhaps you may be pregnant?"

She lowered the bin and looked him dead in the eye, then slowly she nodded.

"Yes. I am."

Keter smiled, pleased to be right. It was such a rare treat to be able to figure things out like this. It made him feel so-

_Wait_.

"You're pregnant. We're having a baby." It wasn't a question. More a statement. Saying it out loud made it real to him, so he said it again. "You and me. _We're_ having a baby."

"Mm hm!" She sounded excited, energetic, "you'll be a daddy! How's it feel?"

"I feel..."

How _did_ he feel? Honestly? Marriage, children. None of this had been in his plan. Marriage had been one thing, but now _this_ was there on the horizon. And nothing would ever be the same again.

"I feel like I need to lay down..."

Once Keter recovered from his shock, he went all in with baby prep. For the next five months, he devoured every book on child development, pregnancy and childbirth that he could find. He took as many trips into town as he could to gather supplies for their child personally.  
The nursery soon became his favorite room to spend time in, especially with Feena. They spent hours in here together, decorating, or just day dreaming together about their child.

"You know," she said, placing a decorative pillow on a rocking chair "We have to think of a good Princess name!"

Keter tilted his head, the closest he could get to raising his eyebrows now.

"We don't know it'll be a Princess, do we?"

"Oh, it'll be a Princess. I know. And we have to give her a better name than I have."

She carefully sat down in the rocking chair, one hand resting against her sizable bump.

Feenarah's family had only established Dryl as a kingdom a generation ago. Their daughter would be the second ever Princess of Dryl, after all. It was important.

"So that means" he scrunched up his nose, "it has to be some kind of... Pun?"

"Kind of?" She gently rocked as she talked, "Let's look. So we have Queen Angella because she's an Angelic being, and Princess Aquata because she's from Selineas and she has water powers. And then there's-"

"Entrapta," he decided fairly quickly, "it'll have to be Entrapta."

Her eyes went wide and she stopped rocking.

"_Entrapta_?"

"Of course," he laughed, "it was how we met, yes? Nothing would be more appropriate."

"Entrapta... Yes. I like it," she decided, "its perfect!"

Not long now.

Feenarah lay on her back in bed while Keter rubbed her swollen belly. As their child kicked at his fingers, he chuckled and pressed feather light kisses to little hands or feet.

He was in love already.

"She's strong," he commented, "my little Entrapta. My Princess."

His wife reached down to run her fingers through his hair.

"Aww, she's stealing all your attention already?" She sighed, "I will have to work harder to make you look at me again."

"You never have to work for my attention, my love." And it was the truth.

He pulled away from his little kicking daughter to kiss the woman who made it all possible. Outside, the snow was falling in thick clumps.  
It was January 23nd.

  
Labor started the next morning.

  
On January 24th, Entrapta, second ever Princess of Dryl, was born. The kingdom celebrated.

But that celebration was not to last.

It started with a fever, a small one. A minor infection. A silly little thing. It should have been easy to fight off.

But it spread, and quickly. Princess Feenarah faded rapidly, faster than anyone seemed able to help. Even with years of magic training, nothing Keter tried seemed to work.

He could only watch, hold her hand, wait. _Hope_.

By the second day, she began to have seizures.

By the third day she couldn't keep her eyes open.

By the fourth day, they all knew how this would end. By the fourth day, all hope was gone.  
By the fourth day, Keter knew they would say goodbye and so, it seemed, did she.

"Look after her, Keke. Protect her," her voice was weak, barely more than a whisper. Not the lively, excited squeal he had come to expect of her. This couldn't be the same woman. He squeezed her hand and he registered an attempt to squeeze his back.  
"_Please_."

He opened his mouth to promise. He honestly tried, but all he could manage was a noncommittal grunt. Not a promise, but he would allow her to think what she wished in the end. She was trying to trap him with another vow.  
But he knew where her traps were now. He knew how to avoid them.

Her hand went limp. Her breathing stilled. As if she could sense it, baby Entrapta began to cry. He wanted nothing more than to do the same, weep with her, hold her close, mourn. But he couldn't.

For a long time, he sat next to her body, not thinking, not feeling. What ever there was to feel, it wasn't for him. This was not how it had been meant to go. It was all wrong. He'd finally found it. Happiness.  
A life.  
His daughters birth was supposed to be joyful. He was supposed to be happy.

He rose to his feet, kissed her forehead one last time, then pulled the sheet up to cover her.

Keter then went to the cradle and ran a hand through his daughters soft violet hair. Such a small, helpless little life. So precious. Pure. She needed protection.

_Look after her, Keke. Protect her._

  
He couldn't do this.

The instant he touched her, he knew he was wise to make no promises. The girl would be the absolute image of her mother. A reminder every day.  
No. It was more than he could handle.

He lifted her, gave the baby one kiss, then handed her off to Losa. He was weeping and Keter truly envied him for it. With the loss of his eyes, his tear ducts had been lost as well. One of the biggest tragedies of his life. He couldn't even cry over her.

"I am going to the lab. Watch over her."

It was not a request, and Losa was not in a position to question the Father of his new Princess.

  
Keter walked the familiar halls, the path to his wife's lab, passing paintings, recalling when they had one in particular painted. It was just after they married. She had insisted. Despite his grief, he found himself reaching up, smiling as he ran a hand along the pretty painted face of his wife. Her smile was infectious, even now.

He moved on.

Sorting her lab would be a whole weeks worth of work. He had to save some thing of her for Entrapta. Her notes, the recordings of her voice, her data, her inventions.

All of her collected medicinal knowledge, he would have to make sure that ended up in the right hands. He just couldn't let her lifes work go to waste. He needed to sort these and place them somewhere safe, somewhere Entrapta would have access to.

He would give them to Losa. He was dependable.

As he had planned, it did take him a week to sort. When he was done, he sent Entrapta away for the day with Losa, a nice trip into town. It was a perfect day, the baby needed sunlight, he reasoned. It was all in place. The stage was set.

The fire began in the lab. Of course, by now everything worth keeping had been conveniently sorted and stored safely. The fire would not spread far. Keter had taken care of that as well. It destroyed the lab and most of the connecting wing, but was quickly extinguished. By that point, Keter was gone. No body had been found, but they marked a grave for him anyway, right next to his Princess.

Hordak questioned him extensively upon his return. Keter kept his answers simple, always technically the truth. When Hordak called in a truth spell, Keter was surprised to see Lightspinner. No. Not Lightspinner. Shadow weaver now, and she did not recognize him. Not that he expected her to.  
Her truth spells were potent. But Keter was honest.

"Now," Hordak snapped after the spell was on him, "what happened?"

"I fell into the Princesses trap. My squad was killed. I survived and was held at the castle."

"Your eyes?"

"She experimented on me."

"We've received reports that the Princess is dead."

"Yes. I killed her," he answered, honestly believing every word he said, "her death was caused by me."

Shadow Weaver exchanged a look with Hordak and he put a hand up, dismissing her.

"After your ordeal, you still returned to us and you took down a Princess as well." Keter watched Hordak's lips twitch into something like a smile. The first time he had ever seen it. It may have fascinated him before, but now he just wanted to change into a uniform and get back to work. "Such loyalty does not go unrecognized. As of today, you will have the honor of serving in my personal guard."

Keter rose to his feet again. Personal guard. That was the closest thing a Horde soldier could get to an honorable retirement. It was easy work, but respectable. His chances of dying were minimal.

A shame.

He accepted his new position with all the grace his poor broken heart could manage.

  
For the next 29 years, that was his purpose. Every day, he lived like a dead man, staring away at something so distant now. When he was alone, he would touch his wedding band, which now hung from an old chain at his throat. He would talk out loud to her, as if she were just out of sight, working on an invention. He imagined her laugh, her voice. Held it close.

He paid attention to the date, always taking important days off in private celebration. Their wedding anniversary was the one he looked forward to the most. And her birthday. When that came around, he would go out beyond the Frightzone to hunt for Moonflow flowers to bring back. He never found any, but for 29 years, he looked regardless.

At night, when the rest of the Frightzone had gone to sleep, he would pull out a small painting of her that he had kept, along with a scrap from her wedding garb.

"Well, Fee," he whispered, "it's been 10583 days. I still miss you."

He held the fabric to his lips, breathing in the memory of their wedding day. Her smile, her laugh, the flowers in her hair- the fabric still smelled like her. She vowed to love him for the rest of her life. Considering how short that life ended up being, he had no doubt she had been able to keep her vow.

Now he wished he hadn't made the same vow. Loving her _hurt_.

The pain never did get better. Whoever said time heals all wounds, was a liar.

On the day that the Princesses invaded the Frightzone, Keter was doing his rounds when he saw a ghost.

No. Not a ghost. Not a woman long dead. A woman very much alive and well. A princess. _His_ princess.

She was the very image of his late wife, the way she tinkered with that bot. He watched her work, smiling behind his mask. Her hair. The magic had been permanent after all, even passing down to her daughter.

Yes. Daughter. _Their_ daughter. _His_ daughter. Ent-

"Entrapta? What are you doing? Come on. We have to hurry."

"Be there in a sec!" She glanced around to where Keter had been only moments ago, scratched her head with a lock of lavender hair, then moved on.

An emotion Keter had not felt in decades welled up inside. Pain. Pride. Love. His little girl. His baby. She was a woman now, grown.  
He remembered his wife's final words.

_Look after her, Keke. Protect her. Please._

He intended to do that now. 29 years late, but it was better late than never.

He followed like a shadow, out of sight, only interfering when her life was truly in danger. How she survived this long acting as she did, he could not say. She seemed eager to get herself killed with her recklessness.

The Princesses were making their escape. Good. The sooner she escaped, the sooner he could put his wife's ghost to rest. But, no. Of course it wasn't that easy. She went back for the bot. Keter frowned as the doors began to close. Only one way free. 

With a little magic, he showed her the way out.

With her survival, Keter kept his distance. Catra seemed to want to hide her from Hordak for the time being, keep her "prisoner". But it was only a matter of time, and stationed just outside the sanctum, Keter was able to keep informed of the moment his daughter was discovered.

Was Keter afraid Hordak might kill his daughter? Certainly. But he had come to know his Lord well. He was not wasteful and he frequently saw potential and how to use it. And his daughter, well, princess or not, she was full of potential.

And just as he expected, Hordak took notice. It happened slow. She showed much the same absent minded friendliness of her Mother, paying no mind to Hordaks anger (or personal boundaries) and soon she became a regular part of his world as she worked directly with Hordak, coming in and out of the Sanctum every day freely as if this were her own castle.

And as things began to develop, Keter started to notice things. Smiles, something Keter did not see often from the great Lord of the Horde, a bounce to his step when she was around, the way he watched her. And one day, he glanced up and saw her perched right on the arm of his throne. The way he faced her, shared the space, yet leaned into her, comfortable, open, while she updated him on progress...

Keter knew what came next. And he could not be outside the sanctum when it did. He put in his transfer request soon after.

Hordak questioned him about it in private, but brought up something else as well.

"Entrapta-" Keter noticed that she was simply 'Entrapta' now, not Princess, "says that her mother died in childbirth, yet _you_ claim you caused her death. One of you is mistaken."

"We're both right, Lord Hordak, in our own way."

As the tall alien worked through this, Keter removed his helmet. Hordak was studying his face now, or what could be seen of it. There certainly were similarities to be found. He had never had a reason to notice before.

"I pulled the trigger, but you could say Entrapta was the... 'weapon'."

Hordak got the implication immediately. Keter had never seen Hordak blush, did not even know he was able to, until now. His long ears pinned back against his skull, the tips turning the same color as his daughters hair.

"Your request for transfer is approved," he grumbled at last.

Keter smiled.  
"I actually have _one_ more request as well, Lord Hordak."

  
Entrapta was looking their portal project up and down with pride. When Hordak returned, he would be so happy. They were finally ready to begin test number 13. Or was it 14? She was beginning to lose track.

The doors to the sanctum opened and she turned to greet Hordak with a smile. Instead, one of his guards approached carrying a tray of tiny cupcakes. That was almost as exciting. Her hair stood on end, she squealed.

Keter smiled behind his helmet at the reaction.

"Lord Hordak sends his regrets for his absence and offers these as an apology."

He presented the tray and she took a tiny pink one from the top, commenting on its "cuteness" before she ate it. With a tendril of hair, she grabbed the tray and set it aside before offering one to the guard. She always offered one to the person making the delivery.

"Want one? This ones cute too!" She held out a purple frosted cupcake with her gloved hand and he took it, fingers brushing against hers. It was the first bit of contact since he left her so many years ago.

"Thank you." He removed his helmet, watching from the corner of his eye as she studied him.

"Your eyes. That's Dryl tech," she observed, "Are you from Dryl too?"

He shook his head, hardly able to keep the knowing smile from his face.

"Mystacor," he answered, "but I did receive these in Dryl."

She nodded, slowly. He wondered for a moment if she understood. She seemed like she was staring just a little too long.

"Have we met?" She asked, "I just feel like I've seen you before. You look familiar."

Keter chuckled and put his helmet back on, leaving the cupcake for later.

"Once or twice, Princess," he replied vaguely, before adding, "I _do_ work here, after all."

She quirked an eyebrow then seemed to move on.

"Alright. Well, thanks! I've got a lot of work to do, so..."

She put her welding mask back down and he stared at those two large red lenses. Just like his, he realized immediately. The portrait. It had not been destroyed after all. Losa must have saved it for her.  
She must have looked up at his face so many times. Did she know?  
Did she care?

It didn't matter anymore.

"Farewell, Princess."

He bowed then left, knowing in his heart, this would be the last he would ever see her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Hope you enjoyed this little project of mine! 
> 
> <3


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